


Sweater Weather

by ticklishraspberries



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sweaters, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 02:19:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18326687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticklishraspberries/pseuds/ticklishraspberries
Summary: Harry loves Ron’s oversized sweaters for multiple reasons.





	Sweater Weather

Mrs. Weasley had an amazing talent of always knitting her Christmas sweaters in the coziest over-sized fashion. No matter how much her children grew, she always made them the perfect amount of baggy, sleeves falling over hands and hems falling over their bums.

Harry, who was used to ill-fitting clothes from Dudley, liked the feeling of something large but still new, of something handmade, something made and gifted to him specifically.

Although, he was certainly guilty of stealing Ron’s maroon sweater now and again, loving the way it fell nearly to his knobby knees, engulfing him in warmth and comfort, the scent of Ron surrounding him, safety and happiness.

He definitely liked the sweater more on Ron himself though.

While Ron would whine about the maroon color, Harry thought it looked amazing on him, paired with pale skin and blue eyes. Plus, he loved the way it rose up whenever Ron stretched, revealing more freckled, fair skin.

At first, Harry always averted his eyes with flushing cheeks, nervous and confused as to why the fluttery feeling in his belly occurred around his best friend.

Now, he can shamelessly stare at his boyfriend and take advantage of the situation too.

They were cross-legged on the floor of Ron’s bedroom, Christmas break slowly coming to an end.

A long night of shenanigans from the twins, delicious food, and wholesome family conversations had left both boys tired, fighting to stay up and spend time alone together for just a little longer.

Ron yawned, arms stretching above his head, the neckline of his sweater pulled up over his face, leaving his stomach bare and exposed, and oh-so-vulnerable.

How was Harry supposed to resist that?

He quickly reached out to poke his belly, grinning widely at the high-pitched squeal that left Ron’s mouth, long arms shooting down to cover his midriff.

“Harry!” he whined, face going as red as his hair.

“Yes, Ron?”

“What was thahat for?”

“Just because! Put your arms back up!”

And to his surprise, Ron did exactly that, albeit shyly and shakily.

His finger continued to poke around his navel, then connected the dots with his freckles, thoroughly enjoying himself as Ron squirmed and giggled like mad, before using both hands to dig into his stomach.

Ron snorted, falling back against the floor and kicking his legs out, narrowly missing Harry’s face with his feet, and Harry climbed on top of his thighs to hold him still as he continued scratching at his sensitive skin.

“Your hands are cold!” Ron cried, shaking his head.

“Aw, does that make it tickle more?” Harry asked, tone teasing.

“It does!”

“Good!”

Inching his face closer to his tummy, Harry grinned when Ron’s eyes went wide, his giggles picking up speed as he felt air ghosting over his skin.

“Noho! Harry, don’t!”

“Don’t what?”

“You know!”

“Oh, I do? Do you mean don’t blow a raspberry?”

“Yehes!”

“Aw, too bad.”

And with that, Harry pressed his lips over Ron’s belly button and blew, and Ron shrieked, trying to curl his knees up to his chest, but he only managed to push Harry closer to him.

Harry took pity on him when his laughter went nearly silent, and instead crawled up his body to rest his head on his chest, how it heaved as he caught his breath, feeling the way his heart beat faster than normal.

“You’re mean,” Ron mumbled, arms wrapping around Harry’s waist and hugging him closer.

“But you love me anyway,” Harry replied cheekily.

“Yeah, I do. But do you know what I’d love even more?”

“What’s that?”

“Revenge.”

And then, laughter filled the room once more.


End file.
